Kent
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Kneeling, head bowed, the old
Knight remained still, though his
Knobby and enfeebled
Knees pulsed with pain, his worn
Knuckles ached, bloodied and
Knurled ... honored now, nigh his
KING ... he would ... not ... falter.
* FIRST PLACE in the "Pleiades K" Poetry Contest, Kim Merryman, Sponsor. *
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2017
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